


In Sickness and In Health

by just_another_classic



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Captain Duckling, F/M, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 13:43:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15686589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_another_classic/pseuds/just_another_classic
Summary: After discovering that her lover, the notorious Captain Killian Jones is ill, Princess Emma realizes what she must do to return him to good condition. (Captain Duckling)





	In Sickness and In Health

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Katie_Dub](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katie_Dub/gifts), [seastarved](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seastarved/gifts).



> Written for Katie_Dub, who also enjoys comfort fics when feeling a little crummy, and Chinx, who enjoys Captain Duckling.

The first thing Emma notices is that he’s late. 

She’s not accustomed to this. As the crown princess, people tend to make their meetings with her. And, despite Killian not caring much for royal titles -- he is, after all, a pirate captain -- he’s always been rather prompt when it’s come to her. He’s never missed their meetings before, often beating her to their rendezvous points more often than not. 

She’d teased him about it before, enjoying the way his cheeks colored pink under his dark scruff.

“What can I say, love? I’m eager to see you. A minute delay is one less minute to have you in my arms.” Well, that had been Emma’s turn to blush. 

Now, she’s not blushing. In fact, she’s both irritated and worried. Emma supposes that she would be less anxious if she wasn’t so sure the  _ Jolly Roger  _ sat in port in one of Misthaven’s less reputable docks. Not only did she spot its sails with her spyglass -- a gift from Killian on the event of her twenty-first birthday -- but she’d already received a note two days ago indicating where Killian wished to meet her. 

Only, she is there and he isn’t, rendering Emma quite annoyed. Patience has never been a virtue of hers, making it all the more vexing that she’s chosen to fall in love with a sailor, who would be gone for weeks at a time. Though, he had been making more frequent appearances in Misthaven’s waters, irritating the naval officers who couldn’t quite figure out how he’d consistently be able to out-maneuver them at every turn. 

(The reasons, of course, being that one, Killian Jones is one hell of a captain, and two, secretly courting a princess has its perks, like access to charms that make detection difficult.

She should probably do something about the secret part. Later.)

She waits a few moments more before deciding she’s finished with waiting. However, she’s not giving up completely on her pirate. Princess Emma is not a quitter, and she’s a big believer in hope and looking for everyone’s inner goodness. (Likely one of the reasons why she fell for a pirate.) No, instead she goes to the stables and requests her horse, saying that she desires to go for a ride around the castle’s grounds. Only, once Emma is out of eyesight, she doesn’t continue to ride around the castle’s grounds. Instead, she takes off toward the docks in hopes of discovering just what is keeping her pirate waiting. 

There’s a small part of her that’s worried her pirate might have finally been caught by her kingdom’s guards. That would prove to be a problem. Emma doesn’t doubt that she might, in some way, be able to free him. She is, after all, the princess. But, in doing so, she would be revealing their relationship, which she isn’t keen on just yet.

It’s not that she’s ashamed of him. She’s not. She might not fully approve of his chosen profession, but she knows his reasons. And, he’d confessed that he’d toned down much of his piratical antics, focusing only now on the kingdoms he believes deserves it. (It’s a step in the right direction, at least.) 

She’s not even sure her parents would be too angry over her courting a pirate. They’d be disappointed she kept it a secret from them for so long, and her father would likely put Killian through his paces. But, they’d eventually understand. They’re the ones who speak so highly of True Love. Though they’ve introduced her to a fair number of suitors over the years, they’ve made it clear that whomever she marries is her choice, and her alone. They won’t force her into anything for the sake of diplomacy. 

To be honest, the reason Emma continues to hide her relationship with Captain Jones can be summed up in the fact that she enjoys the secrecy. Her relationship with Killian is hers and hers alone. She doesn’t have to share him with anyone -- not the court or the kingdom. People won’t weigh in with their opinions of him. And, well, the secrecy of it all adds a decidedly forbidden flair, something that’s quite intriguing to a young woman who has spent the majority of her life in a gilded cage. 

When she nears the docks, she leaves her horse at a tavern she frequents when she wants to sneak out of the castle. She’s fairly certain the barkeep knows her identity, but she pays him well, far more than his drink and food are worth. Because he keeps her secret, she sees to it that his wife and children are well taken care of, as well. Every now and then, Emma might leave behind a scarf or some furred gloves. As far as she’s concerned, it’s a worthy enough trade, secrets for goods.

She’s too the _Jolly_ in no time. She ignores the jeers and catcalls of the various pirates and sailors nearby, too focused on her destination. She disregards any notion of ship etiquette, doesn’t ask permission to board the vessel or anything, before she lifts her skirts and makes her way up the gangplank. 

“Killian! Captain Jones!” Emma feels a strong pair of hands on her, stopping her movements. She turns to see a severe-looking man she doesn’t recognize. “If you would kindly unhand me, please.” Her magic sparks at her fingertips. She won’t hesitate to blast him if he tries anything unseemly. 

“How ‘bout you tell me why you’re here first.”

“I’m here to see Killian.”

“The Cap’n ain’t taking no visitors.”

“Well, he’ll take me!” Even she blushes at the accidental innuendo. She thinks Killian might have even been proud if he’d been present to hear it. Unfortunately, the brute holding her is also amused.

“If you’re looking for someone to take you, I--”

“What’s the commotion over here?” A familiar voice cuts off whatever the man was about to say, and Emma sighs in relief -- she really hadn’t been looking forward to using her magic on him -- when she sees Mr. Smee approaching quickly. Mr. Smee is one of the few people who knew of her and Killian’s dalliance. He was quite squirrely, and had connections at seemingly every port. Therefore, he’d been able to arrange the exchanging of letters for both her and Killian over the course of their relationship. “Wilkins, let go of her. The Captain will keelhaul you if you hurt a hair on her head.”

Wilkins unhands her, and it takes all of Emma’s willpower to not stick her tongue out in defiance. 

“Thank you, Mr. Smee.” It’s then when Emma notices his furrowed brow. “What’s wrong? Where’s Killian?”

“He’s below deck, in his--” Emma is moving before he even finishes his sentence. Up and then down into Killian’s quarters. She had only been there a few times, never in the day, only blanketed in the cover of night. 

“Killian?” The first thing Emma notices is the stench, followed by groan and the unmistakable sound of emptying the contents of their belly into a bucket. “Killian!” 

She sees him leaning over the bed, shirtless. It’s not a handsome sight in this context, not the paleness of his skin or the sheen of sweat. 

“Princess?” His voice is weak, and he glances up at her. He looks terrible -- skin sallow, his hair wild. “What are you…? I’m hallucinating, gods.”

Emma moves closer to him, sidestepping the bucket he had just vomited in. “You’re not hallucinating. I’m here, see?” She takes his hand and squeezes his fingers to prove her presence. “I was worried when you missed our meeting.” She realizes now the reason why. She presses a hand to his brow. “You’re feverish. Have you been to an apothecary?”

“Aye. Smee has. Got me...something. S’not sure what.”

“How long have you been feeling this way?”

“Like this? Since last night. Although, I must confess I haven’t been feeling ship shape for the past few days. Thought I’d be over it by now.” He coughs, then lurches forward back toward the bucket. 

Emma rubs his back as he does this, doubting he has much left in his stomach to vomit up. Worry pricks at her. Killian’s fever is distressing. She’s known of men and women alike to die of such things. Killian says he’s been to the apothecary, but she hardly knows just what herbs or potions he has taken. Although she has faith the apothecaries of her kingdom, Emma knows that at her castle the fairies keep special spells and potions that keep sickness at bay. 

She listens to him sigh and groan, feels him tremble in her arms.

Emma knows what she has to do. 

 

-/-

 

The first thing Killian notices is that he’s not in his quarters.

The mattress is too plush, the bedding too thick, and the light is entering from the wrong direction. He blinks himself awake, only to find himself laying in an opulent canopy bed in a stone room. Rich tapestries line the walls, and the furniture he can see is finer than anything he’s witnessed his life.

Gingerly, Killian sits up. He notices he’s now wearing a white linen shirt -- one he has never seen before -- and he chances a glance around to room. Memories come flooding back when he sees Emma, asleep and curled in a plush chair next to the bed. She had brought him to the castle. She and a few of his men had forced him onto her horse, and Emma had whisked him away to her castle. The rest of the days events are foggy from there. He recalls voices and hands, but little to no details. Something about potions? All Killian knows is that he’s here, in her home.

The weight of that realization settles heavy on him. 

By bringing him here in such a state, it’s very likely Emma has made public their relationship. Or, rather, she’s not particularly hiding it anymore. He doubts he would be in this room in the castle otherwise.

“You’re awake.” Emma blinks owlishly at him from her spot on the chair, forcing herself into wakefulness. “How are you feeling?”

“Better.” He still has a headache and an overall feeling of lethargy, but it’s better than he felt before. “Mostly.”

Emma smiles. “Good. Blue works wonders.”

“It appears so.” Killian mirrors her smile. “How long was I out?”

“About a day or so,” she answers. At his expression, she hastily adds, “By design. It was part of the potion Blue concocted. It helps you recover, which you needed. I didn’t know it was possible from someone to throw up that much.”

If he’s been here a day, it’s impossible that his presence hasn’t been noticed, especially since Emma appears to have--

“Please tell me you didn’t sleep in that chair all night.”

She rolls her eyes. “Not the entire night, no. They wouldn’t let me. Something or another about it being improper.”

“They?”

“My parents.” Emma reaches out and grabs his hand, threading their fingers in a tight embrace. “I’m not unconvinced my father was plotting to murder you in your sleep, but I’m fairly certain my mother talked him out of it.”

His stomach drops, but he puts on a smile he doesn’t feel, and asks, “So I take it they responded well to news of our dalliance?”

In the past, Emma had always acted hopeful that when she chose to tell her parents about him, they would react somewhat favorably. Killian, on the other hand, had his doubts. Emma is an optimist -- it’s one of the reasons why he loves her. She reintroduced light back into his dark heart, but he’s no fool. His heart is (mostly) dark for a reason, and his reputation matches it. Emma might not care for such things, but the King and Queen and members of the court certainly will. Judging by the expression that crosses Emma’s face, he knows his fears weren’t entirely unfounded.

“Well, once they were certain you weren’t going to die, there was quite a bit of yelling.”

“I’m glad they refrained until they ensured my continued existence.”

“Well, it would be rude to speak ill of the dead,” she teases.

“And now that I live, they speak ill of me?”

“Well, as far as they knew, you were nothing but a dirty pirate.”

“I  _ am _ nothing but a dirty pirate,” he stresses. Might as well get that through Emma’s mind. It’s something that will come up often enough over however long it will take for her parents to accept him. Assuming they don’t hang him, of course. 

“Be that as it may, you’re my dirty pirate.” She lifts their joined hands to place a kiss on his knuckles. It’s a silly kiss, as she does it between giggles at the lascivious grin he throws her way.

“I’ll show you dirty, my love.”

“Oh, behave, won’t you?” She lets go of his hand, and he suddenly feels bereft. His fear of one day being separated from her might soon become a reality -- though he will do everything in his power, what little he might have, to prevent it from such. Emma smooths down the front of her dress, and folds her hands, ever the image of a perfect princess. “Like I was saying before, there was a lot of yelling, and a little bit of crying.”   
  
“Please tell me you didn’t shed any tears over me. I’m not worth that.” Killian adjusts himself in bed, moving so that he could be closer to her. He has half a mind to pull her into the bed with him, if only so he could hold her, but her doesn’t want to risk his luck.

“Hush, you’re definitely worth crying over. I thought you were dying!”

“And yet I live. Some might say you’re my Savior.” 

She waves him off. “That was more Blue than me.”

“But you brought me here.”

“Yeah, I did.” She gets a faraway look. “My mother did quite a bit of crying.” A flicker of guilt crossed her pretty face. “First about how I hid things from her. Then about how I hid falling in love from her. Finally, about how her little girl was in love. It was an ordeal.”

“I’m so sorry, Emma.” This time he does reach out to once again to take her hand. He runs his fingers over her skin. 

“Yes, well, you’re probably going to have to apologize to them. Profusely, as you have been sneaking away with their daughter,” she says emphatically. He nods, still focused on the the fact that she hasn’t let of his hand. “As for the piracy bit, now that my kingdom essentially has you, they can’t truly let you go--”

“Emma!” This time it is he who pulls away. She says the words so blithely, like it doesn’t matter that he might be imprisoned or worse. 

“Would you let me finish? You’re usually better about that.” She still doesn’t appear to be taking the matter seriously. “My parents have agreed that, if you wish to avoid any form of incarceration, you could agree to serve in our Navy--”

“--Emma, love, I left the life of an officer--”

“--I did manage to negotiate the matter so that you, and your crew if they so desired, could serve as privateers -- “

That didn’t sound as awful. Privateers were, in some schools of thought, sanctioned pirates. He wasn’t completely on board with the notion, but it did create some form of clemency for his crew. 

“-- but they thought that it would look better if for Misthaven’s princess wed a Naval Captain and not a privateer.”

Emma ends his speech after that, letting the words hang in the air. It takes a few moments for Killian to catch to what she said.  _ “For Misthaven’s princess to wed…” _ She was speaking of marriage -- marriage to him. His heart stuttered. He had hoped -- foolishly, he had thought -- that he might someday marry her. But now, she’s offering it up to him. 

Wait.

“If we’re discussing marriage, I should be the one asking you.”

“Well, I’m less asking, and more telling,” she intones. Killian notices the pretty shade of pink coloring her cheeks. “You can still ask, that is, if you want to.”

“I do.”

Her smile is beatific “Good. I look forward to you asking. But,” she raises a finger to his lips, “you can’t do a thing until you speak to my parents. They want to know your intentions.”

“My intentions?”

“They may respect my decisions, but they know nothing of you, besides your reputation, which, as you know, isn’t sterling.”

“Then how did the topic of marriage even present itself?” Killian asks her. Emma is persuasive, but this is a bit much for even him to comprehend.

“Like I’ve told you before, my parents believe in True Love.” 

“And they believe me, a pirate, to be your True Love?”

“I’m not sure. I believe you are, and they believe me. That’s all that matters in the end.” 

With that, Killian wastes no time in kissing her fully. True Love, indeed.


End file.
